


permanently blue (for you)

by starlight_sugar



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Musician, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7683475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_sugar/pseuds/starlight_sugar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sixteen days into a press tour, what's a bored singer to do? Play Never Have I Ever with her tour staff, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	permanently blue (for you)

Sixteen days into Hero’s press tour, John joins a game of Never Have I Ever.

It’s something of a momentous occasion, in Hero’s opinion. The tour has been wearing them all thin, and now is around the time that the close quarters of the tour bus start grating on nerves. It’s not as bad as it’s been before - not that she’ll ever admit it, but tours with Ben are always hard to stomach - but she’s afraid it will be. So now is the time to stave it off with silly sleepover games.

She doesn’t think to ask John at first, but then she stops to look around. She, Bea, Ursula, and Meg are all sitting at the table they use for dinner, a bowl of chips in the middle, and John isn’t there. He’s lying on his bunk - or, well, on the only non-bunk bed on the bus.

“John, do you want to join us?” Hero says, trying to sound as inviting as possible. She gets along with John fine, but she knows he’s not as close with the other girls. Bea might’ve hired him, but she doesn’t talk to him hardly at all; Ursula has complained about how hard it is to get a press photo without John hovering over Hero’s shoulder; Meg doesn’t say anything about him, but she also doesn’t keep any clothes for him in the wardrobe department, which is as cold a refusal as Hero can imagine from her.

But he’s her bodyguard, and she’s spent a lot of time with him, both on and off tour. She’s only known him for four weeks or so, but she already trusts him, already really likes him. It’s not just because he’s fit (although she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t part of it) - he’s morbidly sarcastic, and not a lot of people want to be anything morbid around Hero. She likes that he’s not afraid of her.

He’s apparently afraid of Never Have I Ever, though, because his voice drifts up from his bunk. “Not tonight, sorry.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, have fun.” He flaps a hand in their general direction, which Hero supposes is meant to mean “carry on.”

“All right,” Hero sighs, brushing a chunk of hair behind her ear. The dye is fading, she notices, a little absently. She’ll have to see if Meg can find someone to retouch the purple in it on the road. She looks back up at the girls. “So who’s-”

“No, you’re joining us,” Bea says, in a tone that brooks no argument.

The tour bus heads over a bump; Hero can’t be sure if it’s the bump or Bea’s words that make John look up. “Am I?”

“We’re bonding.” Bea points at the only empty chair, next to Hero. “You, there, now.”

Hero tries to shoot John an apologetic look, but he only shrugs and clambers to his feet. “What’re we playing?”

“Never Have I Ever,” Hero says. “You’ve played before, haven’t you?”

John wanders over, looks at the bowl of chips, and raises his eyebrows. “Never like this.”

“You eat a handful when someone says something you’ve done,” Meg explains. “Sit down, I’ll go first.”

Hero is quite honestly waiting for John to find an excuse to go to the back of the bus - it’s hard on him, she thinks, being on the road all the time with people who don’t know him, and she’s barely had the chance to talk to him alone - but he sits down next to Hero. His knee doesn’t brush up against hers; Hero thinks maybe she shouldn’t be nearly so aware of that as she is.

“Never have I ever…” Meg narrows her eyes and taps her chin, eyes gliding around the circle. “Had any kind of appearance on a live television feed.”

Hero makes an offended noise. “Targeting!”

Ursula sighs and takes a dainty handful of chips. “During a red carpet thing for you,” she says, mockingly reproachful.

Hero takes her own handful and pops one into her mouth. “Bea?”

“Never on live TV,” Bea says smugly. “I’m in the background.”

John doesn’t take anything. Hero knows that he’d done tour security for Balthazar for a few cities, although nothing nearly as intensive as he’s doing for her. Apparently Balth had just needed a couple more hands on deck; Hero needs a proper bodyguard. (Or, well, Bea says she does, but a month into John’s employment, she thinks it’s too late to argue that she doesn’t.)

Meg turns to Bea. “Your turn.”

Bea gives Hero a smug look. “Never have I ever cried at a concert.”

“You’re heartless,” Hero announces, but she takes another few chips. She doesn’t bother being dainty with these ones, just crams them all into her mouth. Meg giggles as she eats her own chips, and Hero’s so busy smiling at her that she almost misses John reaching for a handful.

“What concert?” Ursula says, lightly curious. It sounds like she could be asking anyone, but she’s looking straight at John.

“Nickelback,” John says, so blandly that Meg chokes on her chips.

Hero narrows her eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“That was the goal, yeah,” John says, swinging his head around to raise an eyebrow at her. The eyebrow is the only form of expression on his face, but she can hear the undercurrent of a smile in his voice. She can't help but smile back.

“In that case, I cried at a Coldplay concert,” Meg says, although Hero’s pretty sure that’s the truth.

Ursula leans in. “Hero?”

“Too many to count,” she admits. She could list a few off, but really, some of the concerts she didn’t cry at were just as good as the ones she did. “I’m a teary person.”

“We know,” John mutters, and Hero elbows him lightly in the ribs, not enough to hurt, but enough to get him to roll his eyes. “What’ve you never done, Hero?”

“Never have I ever…” Hero pauses. Much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she wants to say something that’d target John, but what’s something she knows about him? He has a brother, he works security, he was in the military - but that’s all so narrow that it’s obvious targeting. Maybe it’s best if she just says something and hopes for the best. “Never have I ever had a pet dog.”

Bea groans and reaches for the chips. “Let that go already!”

“I want a dog,” Hero says primly. “And I think it’s ridiculous that you got one when I didn’t.”

“We didn’t grow up together,” Bea says, eating a chip rather sourly.

Meg and Ursula reach for chips too, and after a moment, so does John. Hero decides that’s her point of entry. “What kind of dog did you have, John?”

“Pomeranian,” John says, in that same bland tone of voice.

Hero narrows her eyes at him. “And I suppose you carried him around in a big purse everywhere you went?”

And at last, John cracks a smile at her. “Of course. Thought he was a Labrador, from the way he liked to bark.”

Labrador. That sounds like it could be an actual answer. “And tell me, John, what was your Labrador’s name?”

“Name?”

“Yes, what did you call him?”

“Marguerite.”

Meg barks out a laugh, and Ursula grins. Hero blinks. Somehow, she hadn’t expected that. “Black Lab?”

“Chocolate, actually. She was mostly Peter’s dog.”

“Peter?”

“My brother.” John looks away, a little sharply, and Hero makes a mental note of that - that’s off limits. “My turn?”

“Your turn,” Hero says.

“Never have I ever dyed my hair.”

“Targeting!” Hero says again, taking a handful of the chips. “This is targeting-”

“I’ve dyed my hair,” Meg points out, taking a few of her own. “And Bea has-”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Bea groans, taking her own chips. “Ursula?”

“Never,” Ursula says, a touch too smugly for Hero’s taste. “I’m happy with my own color.”

“Hero’s lavender is iconic,” Meg sighs. “And I miss my blue days.”

“Blue, really,” John says, something like actual interest in his voice. “Dark blue?”

“Dark blue,” Meg confirms, and eyes John’s hair critically. Hero knows that look. “You know, you wouldn’t look so bad yourself - not all your hair, but maybe dying the lower layers something-”

“No,” John says.

“You could go purple.” Hero can feel her eyes light up. “We could _match,_ John!”

“Absolutely not,” he says, but she can hear the smile in his voice again. “I’m not going lavender.”

“You’ll do dark purple. We’ll be yin and yang.”

“Hipster yin and yang,” Bea mutters. “Ursula, your turn.”

Ursula looks slowly around the circle. Hero remembers, suddenly and vividly, that Ursula is very, very good at getting everyone out in one turn. She can read people, and if she’s reading them now-

“Never have I ever been attracted to someone I work with,” Ursula says.

Hero lifts her eyebrows. For once, one that doesn’t apply to her. “Never, really?”

“Maybe I don’t work with attractive people,” Ursula suggests.

Meg gasps and elbows her before reaching for chips. “How dare you!”

“We’re beautiful,” Bea adds, reaching for chips of her own. “Beautiful, wonderful people. Attractive people, Ursula!”

“Not my type,” Ursula says, looking properly smug. Hero wonders, not for the first time, if they’ll ever get to meet her elusive girlfriend. She’d love to, if Ursula wants them to. Maybe she can offer free concert tickets, if not to her own performance then maybe Balthazar’s, or-

John reaches for the chips. Hero can feel her train of thought derailing.

“John, really,” Bea says; Hero can detect some real, honest surprise in her voice. “You liked Balthazar that much?”

“No,” John says, rolling his eyes. “Not that job.”

Hero gives John a considering look. She knows Balthazar’s tour was the first music job John ever had, so that leaves either the army or this tour. And she’s not blind or oblivious, really, knows that John lights up around her in a way that he doesn’t around everyone else. And he’s fit, even if he wouldn’t dye his hair purple for her. And, well. She likes him.

Hero sighs and reaches for the chips. She makes a point of brushing John's elbow on the way, and tries not to smile too much when it feels a little electric.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as one of two commissions for the fantastic [Shawna](http://theperksofbeingabooknerd.tumblr.com) \- make sure check out [her show](https://twitter.com/booknerdpro) starting soon! The title comes from [Bruises](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8HRCacAQ-4) by Chairlift. As always you can see what I'm up to on [Tumblr](http://pervincetosscobble.tumblr.com) and [Twitter.](http://twitter.com/ezrabridgers)


End file.
